Tag: cross

Posted in Easter, friends, Grace, gratitude, love, Scripture, spring, thankful

One Ugly Cross

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

 “For the word of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but it is the power of God to us who are being saved.” 1 Corinthians 1:18

Good Friday and Easter are right around the corner and I want to share something that happens every year at our church. It is the story of a cross.  I know all Christian churches have crosses, in fact, we have several.  But each Easter there is a special cross that sits at the entrance of our church.  And it has a story to tell.

A while back our church had two services on Sunday morning—one early and one later.  When people came to our early service on Easter morning, they were greeted by what can only be described as one ugly cross.  It is made of weathered 2×4’s and covered with…chicken wire.  I am sure more than one person sees that cross and wonders how the custodian could forget to store it before services started. What they wouldn’t know is something is going to happen to that old rugged cross…something that will make it beautiful.

Long ago, there was another old rugged cross and it too was ugly.  It was “repurposed” as criminal after criminal was hung from it.  Nails were driven through human flesh and blood was spilt.  Rome didn’t take kindly to those who rebelled against their stern and unfair system of “justice.”  Like the cross in our foyer, it didn’t need to be displayed…it needed to be hidden.  Then, one day, something different happened. Something different indeed.

So, what about the ugly cross at our church?  Well, you see during the time in-between our two services a wonderful transformation would take place.  The ladies would take dozens of beautiful flowers and completely cover the cross and piece by piece, bloom by bloom, that ugly old cross became beautiful.  And two thousand years ago, the same thing happened.

I know, the thought of Jesus, the Rose of Sharon, the perfect Lamb of God, nailed to a Roman cross, well, is anything but beautiful…until we remember.  We remember that He was no held by nails of iron but by love.  We remember that He was there not for His own sin but for ours.  He was there so that we could call His Father our Father and suddenly His old, rugged cross takes on a new beauty.  It is a beautiful picture of love, sacrifice, and redemption.

Perhaps that is what led the hymn writer to write, “On a hill far away stood an old rugged cross—the emblem of suffering and shame. And I love that old cross where the dearest and best for a world of lost sinners was slain.” Perhaps the author was able to see past the blood and gore to a Savior’s blessed glory. Perhaps he saw what we should see…what we need to see. Paul saw it…that is why he wrote, “For the word of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but it is the power of God to us who are being saved.” No doubt.

Well, at the end of our second service, people would stop and pose by the now beautiful cross and its beautiful blooms.  Its beauty reminds us that instead of an instrument of death, it was an instrument of redemption.  Its beauty shouts that He is no longer hanging on a cross, He is no longer tucked away in a borrowed tomb, no, He is alive…He lives.  Hallelujah…what a Savior…what a Redeemer…what a Rescuer.

Each year on the Monday after Easter, our cross was stripped of its now dying flowers and it was stored away to be rediscovered next year.  But let’s make a point to never forget what the old, rugged cross is all about…redemption, rescue and love.  Let’s gather each week, whether it is Sunday or another day, and celebrate an old rugged cross and an empty tomb.  Because they are both empty, we have a reason to celebrate.  Need a little help with that? Don’t worry…He’s got that.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Easter, fear, forgiveness, Grace, gratitude, heaven, Holidays, life, love, loving others, prayer, Scripture, sovereignty of God, thankful, Trials

What Do You Hear?

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

Good Friday.  What an unusual name for such hard, hard day.  Imagine with me as slowly the light increased over Jerusalem.  It was another early morning in spring and men were going to die.  The Romans regularly crucified criminals–it was business as usual for them.  But this day, well this day, would be different.  Three men would die on crosses–two criminals and one perfect human being.  His name was Jesus.

As the light increased so did the sounds.  If you had been there, you would have heard the sounds of crowd–a mob really.  Some were crying, some shouting, some angry, some broken.  You would have heard the sounds of struggle–anguish as a man carried a cross too big for even the healthiest of men.  At the top of a stark hill the sounds intensified.

You could hear without trying the sound of metal on metal as hammer meets nail.  Cries of humanity suffering as three crosses are lifted skyward.  The message was clear.  You don’t mess with Rome.  Scattered around are the sounds of women crying and men in anguish.  Stares of disbelief filled the eyes of many.  Listen now–there are words.

The Man in the middle–the perfect one–is speaking and what He says is almost beyond belief. “Father, forgive them.  They don’t know what they are doing.”  Forgive them–the very ones who passed the judgement–who drove the nails–who lifted the cross. Wait, for there is more.  One of the criminals is mocking him but the other is begging him.  “Remember me,” he says.  And Jesus responds “Today, you will be with Me in paradise.”

There are more words.  Lean in-strain to hear. The Man in the middle–the perfect One–is asking His friend John to take care of His mother.  And then there is the cry of brokenness as He cries, “My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?”  He knows why.  The Man in the middle–the perfect One–has become sin and His Father can’t look on sin.  There’s a price being paid, and it involves wrath and death.  And He is willingly paying it.

As His end draws near a silence begins to fall over the hill.  The women are cried out, the soldiers are bored, and the crowd confused.  And then they all hear it.  “Tetelestai.” It’s a common word really.  It means finished.  An artist would say it when the last stroke is applied to a masterpiece.  A carpenter would say it when the last peg is driven in a newly built table. A farmer would say it when the last sheave of wheat is harvested.  But when the Man in the middle–the perfect One–says those words, everything changes.

“It is finished.”  The mission is accomplished. The price for sin has been paid and atoned for.  The wrath of God for sin is satisfied.  What justice demanded He has paid. And what He promised the criminal becomes a reality for any person. My sins, your sins, our sins, can be forgiven and you can be with Me in heaven.

So, then He dies.  Actually, He wills himself to die for no one could take the life of the Man in the middle–the perfect One.  He could give it, but they could not take it.  Rocks crack, thunder rolls and then in the distance a tearing, ripping sound is heard as the massive curtain separating man from Holy God is torn from top to bottom and God–God hangs out the welcome sign for the first time ever.  And it’s all because of the Man in the middle–the perfect One.

In any other story that would be the end, but you see it’s only Friday.  The final act is coming on Sunday. Friday ended with His followers discouraged, defeated and afraid. Maybe like some of us. But if you lean in again…if you listen closely…you can hear the Father saying, “Rest in Me. Wait till Sunday.  I’ve got this.”  And…He does.  Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, food, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, love, Scripture, sovereignty of God, thankful

The Bloat Load

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

In Him we have redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, according to the riches of His grace, which He lavished upon us.” Ephesians 1:8

More is better.  I know, I know…that is a flawed philosophy because sometimes more is just more but often…more is better.  I am a foodie.  I like food and food likes me.  To me food is more than nourishment…food is like a warm blanket on a cold night and because of that I sometimes ask for…more.  When my wife Judy and I were much younger for a special treat we would go to Shoney’s for supper. It didn’t happen often, not because we didn’t like it but because our very limited budget said no. On an even rarer occasion we would get desert…either strawberry pie or chocolate ice cream cake.  When the choice was the latter, I would ask the server to “smother” it with extra hot fudge and usually, they would.  The cake would come baptized in hot fudge. Can someone say, “Amen?”

More can indeed be better.  I’ve never been too shy about asking for more.  One time I was at our local restaurant. We were and are regulars there and whenever I ordered something that had french fries, I would ask them to be sure and add a few extra.  I know, my Momma surely taught me better and Judy was mortified but I did it and it worked.  My plate would come and sure enough…there were french fries enough to feed half the kids in Africa.  I would then douse them with ketchup and well, it was good.  More can be better.

On one visit I decided to change my approach, so I asked the server for a “boat load” of french fries.  I wasn’t sure how much a “boat load” was but I was sure it was more and yes; more can be better.  Well, it worked and once again my BBQ sandwich was accompanied with what had to be a five-pound bag of french fries. As we finished our meal, our server brought our ticket by.  Now, I’m one of those people who don’t normally even look at the ticket…I just assume it is right.  But this day I did…and I was glad.

No, the amount wasn’t wrong but what she wrote was hilarious.  She was probably not familiar with my southern humor or word pictures because she didn’t write “boat load,” she had written, wait for it, “bloat load.”  Even now as I write this a smile creeps across my face because it was both accurate and funny.  I am sure by the time I finished off the enormous pile of fried potatoes, I was most certainly, “bloated.”  Wrong word—right message!  And yes, sometimes more is better.

I know that is true with God.  In my Jesus journey, I have discovered that He is a “bloat load” God.  Mercy…bloat load. Kindness…bloat load. Love…bloat load. Patience…bloat load. Grace…mega bloat load.  In fact, I like the way Paul, one of the big players in the New Testament part of the Bible put it.  He said, “In Him [that’s Jesus] we have redemption [that’s rescue from our hot mess sin] through His blood [that’s the cross], the forgiveness [that means charges dropped] of our trespasses, according to the riches [that means a lot] of His grace, which He lavished [that means “bloat load”] upon us.” Wow. Now that is good news.

I thought it was always cool when the server accommodated my “more is better” request.  At the minimum they didn’t scorn me and at the most…well I received more and as you know…more can be better.  But nothing matches God.  The only place that God is a little stingy is in the wrath department.  Oh, He is just, and He is holy, but His preference is that each of us, all of us, come to Him and receive His grace.  After all, He did say He loved the whole world and after all He sent His Son to die for that world on a Roman cross.  Can someone say, “bloat load?”

So, more can be better…especially if it involves hot fudge and french fries.  Oh, and more is always better when it involves the mercy, kindness, love, patience, and grace of my Dearest Father.  He wants you to be able to call Him Father also…just ask and He will lavish His great grace all over you and call you His own.  He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Family, food, forgiveness, friends, Grace, gratitude, life, loving others, prayer, school days, Scripture, sovereignty of God, thankful, wisdom

Dinner on the Grounds

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life.” John 3:16

There’s lunch and then there is dinner on the grounds.  Church and I were a good fit from the get-go.  The schools I attended were always large and it was easy for someone to get lost in the crowd.  The bottom line seemed to be you had to be either really good or really bad to get recognized.  If you were really good at sports, for example, then a lot of people knew your name.  If you were really bad at life, well people knew your name, but it was the wrong people.  You might remember the categories in your yearbook that named people to be the most likely to do something.  Some were just destined not to be remembered. That was probably me.

I was one of those guys who just wandered around in the gray social midst at school but not so at church.  The churches I attended were like the three bears and their beds. One was too big; one was too small, and one was just right.  They were big enough to have fun, and I suppose learn a little about Jesus, and yet not too big.  I managed to be accepted by my peers and even the adults thought I was cool. So church was a good fit but that isn’t the main reason why I liked it.  I was grateful for the social acceptability, and I even appreciated the Bible stories and learning about Jesus, but in those days, I was in it for…the food.

You see, several times a year we would have meals at church. There were two things that you could count on.  First, they were always potlucks.  Now, in case you don’t know what a potluck dinner is, first, where have you been?  No seriously, a potluck is when everyone brings something for dinner.  It is one of the greatest inventions in the food world.  Imagine the world’s best buffet—meats, casseroles, vegetables, breads, starches, and the motherlode of all motherlodes—dessert. I can still remember there being tables—as in more than one—of nothing but desserts.  It was like food heaven. We still do this every once in a while, at our church so if you ever hear of this happening, even if you don’t like God, you need to come to church that Sunday.  One word says it all—cowabunga! If you need more than one word—here’s three “shoot that thing.”

The second thing that was just cool was in the old days’ churches would build permanent tables outside to hold all this food.  Often, they would have a tin roof over them.  You could line up on both sides and let her rip.  We always had those big plates, and you were obligated to fill them up.  Then, you would just go find yourself a place in the grass and sit down and eat…and eat…and eat.  It truly was one of my favorite times at church.  The food and the fellowship (being with all the people) was just amazing.  We have a ministry at our church where if a member of a family dies, we provide lunch for them on the day of the funeral. It is like a mini potluck and our ladies do such a wonderful job.  I’ve already asked them if I can have my dinner before I go so I can enjoy the meal.  I’m still working on that one.

You see, there are lots of reasons to attend church and like I said in my early years’ food was a good reason.  I have another reason now too. I’m the pastor.  It’s kinda expected that I will attend. But here’s the truth.  I don’t go now for the food…I go because I want to go. Yup…I don’t have to go to church, I get to go to church.  It is so good because some of the people I love the most are there.  And guess what? Some of the people that are a little harder to love are there too but that doesn’t matter because we have one thing in common—we all are pretty fond of God.

But wait, it gets better.  Guess what?  He is really fond of us.  He loved and loves everyone so much that He sent His Son to earth—we call that Christmas.  He also loved and loves everyone so much that He allowed Him to die on a Roman cross—we call that Good Friday.  It was bad for Him that day, but it was good for us because that day He paid the price for all the things all of us have done that offend His Father.  But wait…that isn’t the end.  After three days, He came back to life—we call that Easter, and it is a documented fact that it happened.  Pretty amazing.

Well, I am grateful for all the good food and other things that happen at church.  But I am so grateful for God, my Dearest Daddy, loving me that much and remember, He loves you that much too.  If you want to know more, I hope you will get a copy of His Book the Bible—it’s been a best seller for centuries—really.  Something I have learned is that it is a great idea to have God on your side.  It’s just good to know that He is there and will be there no matter what.  No, He isn’t Santa Claus just waiting to give you everything on your list.  No, He isn’t a Genie just waiting for you to rub His lamp.  He is God, He is real, and He wants to make a difference in your world.  Why not give Him a try?  You’ll find that no matter what you face, He will face it with you. I’ve learned that every day, no matter what, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Posted in friends, Grace, gratitude, life, love, loving others, missions, prayer, priorities, Scripture, thankful

Three Days, Day 1

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

For this is how God loved the world: He gave His one and only Son, so that everyone who believes in Him will not perish but have eternal life.” John 3:16

They say that God works in mysterious ways.  So one week God showed up in three very different ways on three very different days.  Now if you aren’t a God follower you might write this off as chance and circumstance but my life and faith journeys won’t let me do that.  Regardless, sit back and enjoy the story.

So if you are a Grits reader you know that my day job is leading a church.  I am the senior (by position and by age) pastor at a local church so God plays a big part of my walkabout life—both at church and otherwise.  Well, on this particular week it all started on Sunday.  It was a special day because we had a guest visiting our church who works in another part of the world.  She is a good friend of my wife Judy and me.  We have visited her and served with her several times where she serves. So we had her share about her work at a brunch we held and also in both of our services.  It was good.

Our worship services consist of two big parts—the music part and the Word part.  The Word part is when I get to share with the folks both in the room, on the radio and Facebook Live.  I love it…when it goes right. Smile.  Well, this particular day, The music part was just awesome and the sermon came together in a way that only God could orchestrate.  He was good.

We also gathered our shoeboxes for Operation Christmas Child.  If that doesn’t ring a bell just google it and you will discover one of the most purposeful things you can do. Basically you fill a shoebox with kid’s stuff and then drop it off at a collection point.  Samaritan’s Purse will ship the box (about 12 million of them) around the world to make some child’s day.  It is awesome.  Well, that day we collected our boxes, all 519 of them, and the climax was our kids marching in carrying a bunch of them.  It was very good.

So, when I was giving some closing comments at the end of the service, I told the folks that this was a “trophy Sunday.” What I meant was that it was the kind of day that you put in the special part of your brain where you put memories that you don’t want to forget.  Just like a trophy reminds you of a special event, so day was one we should keep safe because one day, someday, you just might need to be reminded that God is indeed good.

You see, not everyday is a trophy day.  Not everyday is going to be a cloudless and sunny day. There is going to be day’s that make you wonder “what in the world was God thinking?”  It may be one of those days when you think “how could a good God every allow something like this happen.”  It may be one of those days that rub you wrong…like a cheap, scratchy wool sweater.  We all have them, don’t we?  When one rolls around, you simply go to your trophy shelf and remember that God is good and even that is bigger than it sounds.  You see God doesn’t just do good…He is good.  And that is true even when our world goes south.  And sometimes it will.

The biggest trophy on my trophy shelf is a bloodied, Roman cross.  It is where Jesus died a sacrificial death…not for His benefit but for our’s.  His death that day paid the price for the sin, the messes, the brokenness of an entire world.  And God said if we would believe that what He did and choose to follow Him, we could have His love on our trophy shelf forever.  I know in today’s world that sounds hokey but trust me, it is anything but.  Go ahead check it out, check Him out.  It is a trophy worth having. One of the best known verses in the Bible is John 3:16.  It simply says that God loved the lot of us—all of us—so much He allowed His only Son to die so that anyone who believed in Him, could live forever.  Like I said, check it out.  Hey, watch Grits in the coming days for part two of “Three Days.” It is a story that gives weight to the fact that, “He’s got this.” See you then. Bro. Dewayne

Posted in Easter, Family, fear, forgiveness, Grace, gratitude, life, loving others, prayer, priorities, Scripture, sovereignty of God, thankful, Trials, wisdom

Rubicon

Posted on by Dewayne Taylor

Father, if you are willing, please take this cup of suffering away from me. Yet I want Your will to be done, not Mine.” Luke 22:42

It was a Saturday morning, and it was my rubicon. I was reading an email this morning and it used this word—rubicon.  I had seen the word many times plastered on the side of a special edition Jeep and that is why the email and this word grabbed my attention.  I wondered, “What does it mean?”  Well, as it turns out there are two definitions but the one that mattered to me was this:  a point of no return.”  I guess for the Jeep owners it means that their Jeep is designed to go to and past that point.  In the email it meant more.  It meant that Jesus was willing to go past His rubicon—His point of no return—even though He knew what that meant.

Back in 2018, I had a rubicon of another sort.  Back in those days, I was walking 5.25 miles a day at a pretty brisk clip.  It really was quite an accomplishment as I had been doing it for many months.  But something was happening.  In October of that year, it was just getting harder.  I had put on a few pounds and I was sure that was the reason.  Each day I would arrive back to the house exhausted, my heart rate a bit higher than it had been running and worse—it wasn’t coming down.  I would walk five days a week and each day was the same—hard.  Then came Saturday.

Saturday, October 6th, I reached my rubicon…my point of no return.  After my walk I literally collapsed in a chair in my backyard.  A guest staying in our Airbnb, who happened to be a resident medical student, asked what I was doing.  I told him I was trying to breath and then humorously added that he might want to stick around as I might need him.  Turned out I was a prophet.  That day, I ended up in the hospital and it turned out the following Tuesday, I had a heart cath where they discovered a 90% blockage in one of the arteries of my heart.  All of a sudden, things began to make sense.

You see, the high heart rate and the shortness of breath were symptoms that something was wrong.  Each morning, my body was sending me a message—something is wrong—something is coming—-do something.  I am sure the Tuesday before my rubicon was like this Tuesday morning, a normal day.  I am sure that day I got the warning message and that day I excused it away.  But what if I had known?  What if I had known that Saturday, I would reach a point where going was not an option.  Would it have changed things?  Honesty, it probably would have…but I ignored the warnings.

This week, as we look forward to Easter, the resurrection of Jesus, think about the fact that all the signs were there.  Jesus, as the Son of God, knew His rubicon had come.  It was time to fulfill the mission for which He was sent.  It was time for Him to suffer and to die.  Unlike me, He knew what was coming and pressed on.  The reason was simple.  It wasn’t that He loved the thought of enduring the abuse and suffering of the cross and the events leading up to it—no not at all.  But He was in love with something else—us.

Jesus knew full well all of the details of His rubicon and went on because He loved us.  It was love that led Him to cross—it was love that caused Him to place one foot in front of the other—each one leading to a Roman execution. It was love that caused Him to go all the way.  Growing up,  when I did something that had difficult consequences, my mama would tell me that I should have known better.  Jesus knew better—and went anyway.

This week, ponder and think about the days leading to the day when Jesus died—His rubicon.  Remember that He did it for me and He did it for you.  When He prayed in the garden Thursday night that if there was any way this thing might pass—He knew full well it couldn’t.  That is the reason He kept on praying, “nevertheless, not My will Your will be done.”  In other words, He would say, “bring on the rubicon because that is why I came.”

If your week, this week has any unpleasantness or difficulties, just remember the week when He marched forward knowing full well what lay ahead—and remember He did it just so you and I could call God, Abba Father or Dearest Daddy.  How amazing is that? He was able to do it because He trusted and loved His Father.  And we can do it for the same reason.  No matter what, we have the confident assurance that, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne